


Blackened Bones

by Batsutousai



Series: Tumblr Prompts [23]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Gen, Nightmares, Suicide Attempt, Torture, Torture Disguised as Punishment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-07
Updated: 2013-05-07
Packaged: 2017-12-10 17:37:28
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,508
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/788343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Batsutousai/pseuds/Batsutousai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Loki has only Thanos' cruelties awaiting him, and no way to defend himself, he chooses death as his way out. It's up to Tony Stark to teach him how to fight again.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blackened Bones

**Author's Note:**

> **Disclaim Her:** This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by Marvel. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended. 
> 
> **A/N:** [This prompt](http://imagineyourotp.tumblr.com/post/49320818072/trigger-warning) showed up on imagineyourotp about one half of a couple attempting suicide and the other half finding them in the nick of time and getting them help. I told people on tumblr to tell me no, which sparked a small debate and, invariably, some plot bunnies.
> 
> If I'm anywhere as good an author as you all always seem to think, this fic should bring you tears. If not, well. XD  
> As according with the initial prompt, the suicide attempt fails, but it comes close. Take care, yeah?

When Loki had been informed that he would remain in the dungeons with the gag and magic-supressing cuffs until his crimes were forgiven, he had almost laughed. Because, _really_? That was his punishment for attempted genocide and bringing a war down on the heads of the mortals?

Well, no, of course not. It was simply the only part of Loki's punishment that the Allfather could say in front of Moth–Frigga without her telling him off in front of the entire court. Even Thor gave pause when he found out what tortures awaited Loki in the dungeons, but Loki just grinned at him behind the gag, a silent, mocking challenge in his eyes to cover his own rising nausea. 

The first step into the prepared dungeon room was no worse than stepping into the steam room in the baths. But then the magic hiding Loki's true form unravelled, and he couldn't keep from curling in on himself, trying to preserve his natural chill. Norns, but it _burned_.

Loki had always been more susceptible to heat than any other Æsir, and he'd worked hard to master that weakness. But all his preparations were for naught in this form. 

Still. He could bear this. He could easily bear anything Odin threw at him. Because as long as Loki was in Asgard, he was safe from Thanos and the tortures he would suffer at the Mad Titan's hand. 

Oh, Thanos would eventually be prepared enough to face down Asgard's finest, but it would take a century or two, and Loki was sure to have won back his freedom by then. 

Loki was more than capable of biding his time, even with this heat. 

-0-

Time was meaningless in the unending heat. Loki's only way to keep track was by the guards who came in to free him from the gag long enough to give him water – just enough to stay alive – and rub a salve into the burns that the metal of the gag left around his mouth. Had Thor not been so kind as to ensure his shackles were clasped over the thin tunic he'd been forced to change into, his wrists, too, would have needed such treatment. 

There was one guard who refused to see to Loki's burns, and often 'accidentally' dropped some of Loki's ration of water to the steaming floor. Loki let him, gave no reaction to the cruelty, because he knew a reaction was what this man was looking for. And, in time, he stopped coming at all.

Six times, it had been Thor who came and delivered water and seen to Loki's burns. He always gave Loki a little extra water, left the gag off for a little longer, and Loki loved and hated him in equal measure for his kindness. 

The seventh time Thor came, he carried no water in, and he carried Loki out. No guards stopped them as Thor brought Loki up the stairs to the room that Loki and Thor had shared as boys, before they'd been given their own palaces. 

"Father has prepared further punishment for you," Thor said as he helped Loki to bathe, his Áss skin having slowly returned as they made the trek upstairs. "He's agreed to give you a day to rest, then you will have audience with him." 

Loki raised an eyebrow at the Thunderer; a clear question that even Thor was not so dull as to miss. 

Thor shifted and helped Loki into new clothing before explaining, "Mother had...words with Father. Many words. He finally agreed to a punishment that is less harsh." 

Loki truly would have laughed, were it not for the continued presence of the gag. 

Loki couldn't begin to imagine what punishment Odin had in store for him next, and he was too exhausted to think on it much before his body shut down on him, leaving him to enjoy his first true sleep since he'd stepped into that heated room. 

When Thor woke him, he was offered some water and light food, then led to Gladsheim, where Odin and the court awaited him. He stopped in the same spot as before, Thor again at his side, and raised his head in a clear defiance of the bow he was expected to make. 

The court let out some quiet titters, but Odin gave no reaction to the slight. Loki hadn't really expected him to. 

When Thor had risen from his bow and the court was quiet, Odin rose from Hlidskialf and announced, "Loki Odinson. At the request of my Queen, your Mother, you are to be shown the same mercy once granted unto your brother." 

_No._

He pointed Gungir at Loki. "I strip from you your magic." 

_No!_

"I strip from you your longevity and hardiness." 

_NO!_

"I call you Loki of Midgard, until you have again proven yourself to be my son." 

Loki collapsed to his hands and knees, metal chains too heavy against mortal bones. He stared down at his hands, skin too pale from his previous punishment, bread and water rolling in his stomach like poison. His over-long hair hid the single tear that slipped out in spite of his dehydration, splashing like the tolling of a death knell against the shining floor between his splayed fingers. 

As Thor pulled him up, Loki bitterly wondered how long he would have before Thanos found him. 

-0-

Thor argued with SHIELD for almost two hours before Loki was released to Stark's mansion. Barton was the one who met them at the door, something cruel in his bearing, but it eased behind a flicker of disbelief before the agent closed off any hint of emotion. 

Loki wondered if he really looked so bad as to win concern from one of the Midgardians he was sure would sooner see him dead. 

There were no threats made, no overt hints of violence, but there was no doubt in Loki's mind that he was unwelcome here, as he was led to a room prepared for his use. 

"My room is next door," Thor promised, waving to a door that had been painted the same red as Thor's cape, a crude drawing of Mjölnir emblazoned across the front. Loki's own door was his favoured shade of green, but had no picture upon it. 

Loki's muzzle and chains had been removed before they'd left Asgard, but he had no words to waste on his not-brother, so he simply stepped into his room and shut the door on Thor's broken expression. 

The room was done in dark colours, mostly green or black. The furniture was hardly befitting a prince of Asgard, but it was well-enough for a banished Jötunn with no use. 

_If nothing,_ Loki supposed as he climbed into the surprisingly comfortable bed, _it is a more comfortable prison than my last._

-0-

Loki went to lengths to avoid the others in residence. He tried being awake only at night, when the Midgardians and Thor would be sleeping, but it seemed enough of the Midgardians kept unusual hours that it mattered little the time, someone would always be around when he crept from his room. Often, it was Barton or Romanov, both of whom kept their silence and just watched. Sometimes, he came across Dr Pym, a newer member of the Avengers, who had a habit of either not noticing Loki at all, or leaving the room as soon as the fallen god entered it. Once or twice, Loki came across Banner, and then it was _he_ who turned around and left right away, having no wish to be near the man that held a monster deep within himself. 

More often than not, it was Stark who would find him in the kitchen, a mug in one hand and eyes a little too bright, too exhausted. He would greet Loki, would ask him questions about inconsequential things, or try to get him to watch some idiotic film or another. Loki always turned him down, or refused to speak at all, but he had to admit that it was nice to have someone who seemed to seek him out. 

He wondered, as he climbed into the bathtub of his en suite, if Stark would be the one to find him. 

That afternoon, Loki had been dragged from a mundane dream into a nightmare. A nightmare of Thanos bearing down on him, of hands scrabbling against his flesh, under it, between organs and bones. Of teeth in places they shouldn't be, drinking and eating whatever they could get from the fallen god as he lay, blue skin and red blood, open and helpless. 

And agony, such terrible agony, such pain that he couldn't even vocalise it, couldn't do anything more than wait for the embrace of Death, and know – know like he'd once known his name, before such torments robbed even that from him – that she wouldn't accept him until her lover was appeased. 

Loki had woken covered in sweat that was tinged red, and he'd known, without question, that if he had any hope of avoiding Thanos' wrath, he had only a short time to see to his own death. 

There was no honourable way to die by one's own hand, Loki knew, and his personal options had been limited. He'd been left a razor for facial hair in his bathroom, that he'd never had cause for use, which he believed would be his best option. As for how to go about it... He would have to contain the blood, lest an Avenger was forewarned by it puddling out under his door. The only place in his room he could do that was the bathtub. 

So found Loki curling up in his bath, razor clenched in one hand while shame and terror waged a war throughout him. 

Terror won, and Loki pulled back his sleeve to bare his forearm. The vein was obvious under his too-pale skin, and he wasted no time in sliding the sharp edge down it. 

As the pain bloomed, Loki laughed, high and maybe just a little hysterical. 

Then he turned to the other arm and opened it – and himself – to the cold embrace of Death. 

-0-

_"Sir."_

"Busy, Jarv," Tony mumbled around the screwdriver in his mouth, one arm shoulder-deep inside the alien casing SHIELD had sent him after their people couldn't make heads or tails of it. 

_"This is important, Sir."_

He caught the screwdriver with his other hand, removing it from where it had been bracing the casing. "More important than me finding out what this thing does before another one almost blows up London?" 

_"Indeed."_

Tony grunted and pulled his arm out. "Fine, fine. If Thor blew up another toaster because it wasn't cooking fast enough, I swear–"

_"My life-sign sensors say Mr Lie-Smith's blood pressure is sinking at an alarming rate."_

Tony groaned and started from the lab. "Can nothing ever be easy with these gods? I swear..." He sighed and ran a dirty hand over his face. "Is Bruce in?" 

_"Dr Banner is out with Captain Rogers and Thor."_

"Of course he is." Tony rolled his eyes at his friend's paranoia about leaving the mansion without knowing one of the two super-powered members of the team was with him. "Ask them to come back, would you? Tell Bruce it's Loki, but _don't_ let Thor find out. I am not repairing the front door again because he panicked." 

_"Certainly, Sir."_

The halls were silent with Thor and Steve out and their resident agents on a mission, and Tony let out an involuntary shudder. Everything felt... _wrong_.

He quickened his pace. 

Loki's door was locked, but JARVIS easily unlocked it for him. The bed was empty, though clearly had been slept in. "Looks like he's sleeping as well as I am," Tony muttered. 

The bathroom door was partially open and the light on. Tony slowed as he approached, calling, "Hey, Rudolph? I'm coming in," because he didn't want to startle Loki into...whatever defensive abilities he had as a human. 

When no response came, Tony stepped in. Loki was laying in the tub, eyes closed and head back against the headrest. He looked...peaceful, almost, and Tony was loathe to disturb him after seeing the bed. But, still, JARVIS said something about low blood pressure, and–

Everything seemed to come to a stop as Tony's eyes caught on the bright slash of red against the too-pale skin of the ex-god's forearm. 

_"Sir,"_ JARVIS interrupted. _"Mr Lie-Smith appears to be dy–"_

"Tell Bruce he needs to get here _now_ ," Tony ordered in a voice that didn't sound at all right. Wrong, just like the god bleeding out in the guest bathroom. He pulled his shirt off over his head, jostling his earpiece and barely taking the required moment to shove it back into place before he was dropping down to his knees next to the tub, grabbing for Loki's arm. "I can repair the front door later." 

He'd just finished binding Loki's one arm when he realised the other was also bleeding. " _Fuck_ ," he snarled and grabbed a hand towel to bind it. 

And then Bruce was there, pushing him out of the way and barking out orders to Tony and Thor and Steve. And Thor had to be shoved, but they all went, unquestioning and running like it was _their_ lives that depended on it. 

-0-

Tony was the only one awake when Loki's eyes finally opened. Steve and Bruce had left for bed hours ago, and Thor had started snoring, head pillowed in the bed next to one of Loki's tightly bound arms, maybe an hour before. But Tony, well, he rarely slept as it was, and the litany of Bruce's parting comment kept him awake: _'If you had been even a minute later...'_

"You're not dead," Tony commented when Loki turned his head to look at Thor's blond head. Loki turned to him, something broken and helpless in his eyes. "It was a good try, though." 

Loki closed his eyes. "Why?" he whispered. 

"You know, that's kind of what _I_ want to know. I mean, when did you turn into some sort of gothic teenager?" 

Loki's brow furrowed with confusion. 

"Wrist cutting? Totally an angsty kid thing," Tony explained, waving a hand at him. "You know, 'Mom and Dad don't love me enough and the world sucks and I think I'm just gonna slit my wrists in a bathtub and _die_.' What you did, essentially." 

Loki looked, for a brief moment, like he might have something to say about that, but the flicker of emotion in his eyes died and he turned away, back to looking down at Thor's head. 

Tony rubbed a hand down his face and sighed. "I have a no dying rule in this house. Maybe someone forgot to mention that when you got brought in, but it's a thing. So, if you want to off yourself, you'll have to leave the grounds. And, yeah, not happening any time soon. Because you're under house arrest until you tell someone why you decided exsanguination was the way to meet your maker." 

Loki turned to stare at him, mouth thinned with disapproval and a hint of the 'better than you' gleam in his eyes that Tony was familiar with. 

"Bruce's orders," Tony offered. 

Loki's expression shuttered, because he was still afraid of Bruce. And wasn't that interesting, considering he'd just tried suicide.

Tony groaned and got to his feet. "Anyway, JARVIS has eyes on you, now." He pointed to where a camera was obvious in the corner of the room. "If I'd listened to everyone when I agreed to let you move in, it would have been in here earlier, but I didn't. You're welcome." He flashed the ex-god a sharp smile. "You're less welcome now, but you have only yourself to blame for the invasion of privacy. Think of it as a suicide watch, but with less hovering humans." 

Loki looked away, staring at the wall instead of Thor again. 

Tony shook his head and started for the door. "Can't do anything about the hovering Thor, though. Fair warning." 

That, at least, earned him a snort. 

-0-

_"Sir,"_ JARVIS interrupted while he was working on his latest suit. 

"Hmmm?" 

_"Mr Lie-Smith has requested entrance."_

Tony jerked his head around to look at the glass entrance to his lab. Sure enough, Loki was standing there, still too-pale from blood loss and a lack of sunlight. Thor wasn't hovering over his shoulder, for once, and Tony spared a brief wonder for how Loki had slipped that particular noose. "Let him in," he told JARVIS, turning to look for a rag to wipe his hands with. 

It had been two days since Loki's suicide attempt, and he'd not spoken a single word, in spite of Thor's best efforts. He'd also been unwilling to eat, but Bruce had scared him into it, completely okay with the fact that someone was terrified of his other self, for once. Tony was actually kind of proud of his fellow scientist. 

"Good to see you out of your cave, Dracula," Tony called as Loki stepped into the lab, careful and clearly curious as Dummy whirred past him, dunce cap on. (Tony really needed to figure out how his 'bot kept getting that on himself, because it was kind of impossible. And yet.) 

Loki picked up a hand piece from one of the Iron Man armours that was lying on a table – there were three of them in pieces around the lab, right now, because Tony was incapable of working on just one thing at a time – and ran his fingers over the well-oiled joints. "Do you know, Stark, what it means to be utterly helpless?" he asked, voice rough from his long silence. 

Tony shrugged and slid off his stool. "Sure. One of the best parts of being human." He smiled, just a little too sharp. 

Loki glanced at him, eyes shuttered. "And hunted, Stark, do you know that feeling?" 

Tony paused, searching the ex-god's face for any hint of what was going on in his head, but coming up empty. "You know you're safe as long as you stay in the mansion. That was the agreement we made with Thor when he brought you in. No SHIELD. No angry New Yorkers. No–"

Loki laughed, high and much too sharp, and Tony's word stuttered in his throat. "Oh, yes. Because I have any fear for what pathetic cruelties your people might inflict on me." 

"Someone you pissed off in Asgard coming for their due payment?" Tony asked, tone less joking, now. "Because, you know, they're not getting past Thor." 

Loki smiled at him in the same way that an adult would smile at a child who just _didn't get it_.

" _Someone_ wants you dead," Tony figured. "Someone that, what? You think your brother can't stop? Someone that _none_ of us can stop? I'm sorry, but now I'm just insulted." 

"No, Stark," Loki murmured, still smiling, and it was beginning to grate on Tony's nerves. "You might stop him, should he give you chance. But he has no interest in you, not yet. But I–" He swallowed, something like true terror flashing through his eyes before he could hide it away again. "You will not even realise he has come for me until I am gone; a toy for the amusement of himself and his underlings." 

Tony opened his mouth to comment on that, then paused, his mind connecting parts of the conversation now, of things Loki had let slip in the past, of everything Thor had ever told them about his brother. 

Puzzle pieces, finally slotting together in just the right way. 

Tony knew what it was like to be helpless. He knew what it was like to spend days and days with death bearing down on him, creeping closer and closer every day; Tony had once defied terrorists in a cave, wielding metal into a shape that could keep him safe when they finally grew tired of him. 

He waved a hand to bring up a holographic screen, calling, "Jarv, new suit. Let's call it...Reindeer Games." 

Loki's expression flickered with shock before blanking, his fingers tightening around the gauntlet he still held. 

_"Will I be making this suit to fit a taller frame, Sir?"_ JARVIS asked, ever in step with Tony. 

Tony grinned, sharp and violent. "You're what, about six-two?" 

"I do not keep with your Midgardian measurements," Loki retorted. And then, because he was Loki and could keep up with Tony, he said, "If you make any part of this armour red, Man of Iron–"

And Tony laughed, because he was just the sort of person to do that. 

And because there was a spark of life in those green, green eyes; a spark that Tony almost didn't recognise because he'd never seen it before, never met Loki when he wasn't standing on the edge of death and long given up. 

But he was Tony Stark, and Tony Stark was in the business of building people a fighting chance.

..


End file.
